


Sleepwalking

by thelikelylad



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: HyunChan only starts in Chap 3, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slice of Life, the rest of the skz to be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2019-08-24 11:08:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16638794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelikelylad/pseuds/thelikelylad
Summary: The 'a hopeless fool falling for an angel' trope.





	1. At last

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at work so my brain's completely fried at this point. That's why the summary looks like that. I'll come back and fix it later.

Changbin knew there was a reason why he started to feel unsettled and restless as soon as he heard music coming from an open window on his way to Chan’s house. His first thought was to ignore the velvety cooing voice of Kevin Michael resonating through the entire street, yet his first instinct was to saunter towards the source of the music and hunker down behind the bushes in front of what would appear to be a house recently moved into judging from all the boxes outside. After a brief second to stabilise his posture, Changbin finally peered into the curtainless and widely open window on their first floor as the music switched to ‘At last’. The irony of fate was that the moment Kevin Michael, with his smooth and longing voice, uttered the iconic first line of the classic, it hit Changbin what, and who he was looking at. It was Hwang Hyunjin dancing. Hwang Hyunjin, with his unadulterated beauty and the blinding sunlight draping over his entire body, shadowing his every movement.

“At last my love has come along.”

And Changbin swears, as he scrambles out of the spot, that he has never ever hated a song more.

\---

They are not strangers. In fact, if they pass by each other on the street, when Changbin picks up his younger brother from school, Hyunjin would definitely make an effort to greet him. Sometimes he waves at him, sometimes he gives him a timid smile, and sometimes he even calls out his name. “Changbin hyung”, and initiates a conversation, “How have you been?”. But most of the times, the older would just display the bare minimum of courtesy by acknowledging Hyunjin’s existence with a simple nod and if it’s a good day, a muted “Hey”, followed by a quick glance at the younger boy’s face. Changbin knows he doesn’t look good acting so indifferent, and almost deliberately mean towards Hyunjin like that. But he has his reasons. No, he has only one reason. And it’s the fact that he has been crushing on the same Hwang Hyunjin since they were in middle school, the other thirteen and he fourteen.

A few years ago, back when the younger’s family was still one of the richest and most privileged households in this part of the city, Changbin’s dad was hired as a chauffeur for Hyunjin and his mother. He himself had just started school then and his mother was working several part-time jobs to ease the financial burden on his dad, so naturally, they came to an agreement that his mom would drop him off at school on the way to the supermarket where she worked while his dad would pick him up in the afternoon before his shift til midnight. They were struggling to keep the arrangement because sometimes, his mom’s tyranny manager would make her go in early to deal with his own crisis and there was also never a shortage of inconsiderate assholes among the customer base in his dad’s line of work, assholes who would treat the drivers like their servants only to make up nonsensical stories to refuse to pay. But between his parents risking being subjected to the impotent rage of these pathetic excuses of human beings and the 6 year-old him coming to terms with hiding under the mossy slide in a playground nearby till the skies turned pitch black, they made it work somehow.

And it got better for a while after Changbin’s father took the job at the Hwang household. The pay was significantly better and his schedule is relatively fixed as he was to attend to Hyunjin and his mother, both of whom rarely had to make unplanned trips unless it was something of absolute importance, in which case they would be driven with Mr.Hwang anyways. They only encountered a problem when Hyunjin started to take classes at a preschool academy where they taught these really young and rich children algebra and literature in advance so that when they actually started school, the gap between their academic performance and that of other kids would be directly proportional to the income discrepancy between their parents’. It was an awful setup for all the kids involved, but Changbin and his dad’s main problem with it was that Hyunjin’s classes slightly overlapped with Changbin’s pickup hours so it was impossible for his dad to drive the younger to the academy on time if he wanted to take his son home before dinner time. So while he tried to come up with a better solution, Changbin was to go back that playground, which always seemed destitute of children’s laughters and steeped in the eerie air of a dystopian setting instead. No six year-old kid enjoyed absolute solitude or the company of some half dead homeless man whose beard and hair were so overgrown, one could hardly trace his features, let alone tell his age. But Changbin was a good boy. So he sucked it up ignoring the hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach when he could feel hostile stares on him and building a makeshift fort out of a bundle of scarves, winter jackets and school backpack. Changbin was such a good boy that even though it was hard reacclimatizing to that abandoned playground, he still gave his mom the biggest smile when she dropped him off at school looking all apologetic as she asked him to wait for his dad there again. Changbin was really a good boy because he always remembered to look straight at his dad through the rear-view mirror and give him a “Dad, I’m fine” every time he got into the car and caught his dad looking down on the steering wheel for too long. Yet, being a good boy wasn’t enough for a six-year-old child to protect himself from all the uglies of the world.

One day, when he was doing his maths homework under the slide, two bulky men wearing worn-out denim and scratched leather boots suddenly came up to him, lifted him up and tried to carry him back into their van. Changbin struggled out of their hold on him. He bit them, kicked them, slapped and punched them. But it wasn’t a fair fight. Until the homeless man, all of a sudden, as if roused from the death, charged at the two men. He was impossibly strong for someone who was supposed to have nothing to eat for days. With him yanking at their arms and kicking every other part of their body with almost brutal force while Changbin, now partly freed of their hold, screaming for help at the top of his lungs, the two men finally gave up, dropping Changbin on the mudded ground and fled the scene before the commotion attracted a whole crowd. The homeless man stayed still for a long minute watching those two making off in their windowless van, which, in retrospect was probably the exact image under the definition of ‘probable cause’. Then as if he had been hit by some sort of epiphany, the man visibly shook himself out of his trance of thoughts, looking down at the small boy who was now tugging at the ripped hem of his pants. He bent down, picked Changbin up and carried him to the rusted swing right next to them. But when he tried to put the boy down, Changbin tightened his grip on his shoulder, with all the strength that he had left and despite the untrollable trembles of his entire body. The homeless man tried to pry tiny fingers off him, but stopped when a lone tear fell on the calloused skin of his hand. It dissolved as soon as it was met with the rough surface, just like a raindrop falling on a patch of dry sand. The man thought to himself for a moment, then as slowly and almost undetectably as a whiff of sunlight amid the winter rain, he patted his hand on the small of Changbin’s back. And just like that, muffled sniffles became audible sobbing and eventually, high-pitched wailing. The man just sat absolutely still, as if he had been a statue, or a pillar, and the little boy just kept crying, and crying.

Some time had passed with the two of them staying like that and Changbin had almost fallen asleep on the stranger’s shoulders when his dad arrived at the playground. He rushed to their side as soon as he saw what was going on, almost ready to fight the man. But the man stopped him as he gently woke the boy up and gave him back to his father.

“Baby, what happened? Are you hurt?” asked his father, shaky voice full of concerns as he tried to turn Changbin’s small and almost flaccid body around to check for injuries.

“Dad…?”

“Did he do anything to you?” His dad screamed in anger as he discovered bruises on his little neck and arms.

“No, no!” Changbin, finally fully awake due to his dad’s loud and furious voice, denied impetuously as he looked between the two adult men.

“Then why was he…” His dad didn’t get to finish his sentence when the man interrupted him with a stern look on his face. It was weird because Changbin swore you couldn’t even tell the guy’s facial features apart before, but right at that very moment, he realised how deep, almost bottomless, the homeless man’s eyes were. And his wordless stare was so penetrating, it stopped his father mid-sentence.

“You should take care of your son. This is no place for a child.” He intoned, his voice surprisingly clear and resonant.

It took Changbin’s dad a moment to let his words sink in, and when he finally snapped back to reality, the homeless man had vanished into the thin darkness of the early winter night. But he seemed to pay his disappearance no mind. Instead, he just silently carried Changbin back to the car, put him in the back seat, tightened the seat belt around him then went back to the driver seat, and quietly closed the door. He sat still, his back to his son and his head down. Changbin waited a minute for his father to move, eyes searching his reflection on the rear-view mirror. Then he tried to break the silence.

“Dad, I’m fi--”

“Stop.” His dad said, slamming his hands on the steering wheel. But as soon as he saw Changbin’s expressions through the mirror, his voice softened immediately, almost pleading him now. “You don’t have to be brave for me. For us.”

The little boy wanted to say something, but bit back his words.

“Changbinie, look at me.” His dad turned around in his seat, looking straight his boy, his eyes gentle and encouraging. “What happened?”

Changbin kept his eyes on his dad’s, opening them up so wide it was as if he’d wanted to scare the tears away. But then one drop fell, and the next, and the next until they just kept coming. He couldn’t remember what exactly happened afterwards but he could recall trying to tell his father, between sobs and lots of nose blowings, how if it hadn’t been for the heroic homeless man, he would have been kidnapped by two very bad men and that he hated that mossy slide so much and sometimes he felt like he was completely alone standing in that abandoned playground. That he missed them, his mom and dad. All the time.

And when he finally calmed down, he saw his dad pulling over just in front of a house so big, through his misty eyes, it looked like a castle. His dad told him to get out of the car, put his jacket on him and walked him to the front gate. After three bells, someone came out, opened the gate and let them in. Changbin was still in a daze taking in the mesmerizing beauty of the scenery around him when his dad kneeled down in front of him.

“Baby, you stay here with Mrs. Kim and be a good boy, okay?” said his dad, with his thumb finger on Changbin’s cheeks where the tears had dried and probably left a mark.

“Where are you going?” asked the little boy, his head slightly tilting to the left to have a glimpse at said Mrs. Kim. When they met eyes, she instantly smiled at him. She was a very kind looking woman.

“I’m going to have a talk with my boss. Don’t worry, I won’t be long.”

“Okay then.” Changbin said, feeling reassured.

After his dad went to the main house, he was led to a small backyard hidden among some of the biggest trees his six-year-old self had ever seen. Mrs.Kim told him to sit on a porch while she went to get him something to eat. His eyes lit up at the mention of food, and she laughed a bit at that. No matter how shaken up he might have looked a moment ago and how messy his clothes and hair were, Changbin was always a very cute child.

“Just stay where you are, okay?” said Mrs Kim before she went away. And Changbin gave her a firm nod and a timid wave.

After she was gone, he tried to sit up as straight as he could and stay absolutely still. This was no abandoned playground but somehow, without his makeshift fort, he still felt bare and vulnerable. So he did his best to look like he wasn’t scared while listening to the rustle of numberless leave above his head. The entire house was so well-lit he caught himself thinking he was in a daydream dipped in fresh sunlight. But then he looked up at the dense canopy above his head seeing darkness seeping through the empty spots and he remembered how alone he was.

“Who are you?” A small voice to the left of him made Changbin snap back to reality. Then it could be because of the way he turned his head so abruptly, or the chilly winter breezes, or something equally trifling that Changbin was immediately overwhelmed with dizziness the moment he saw what, or who he was looking at.

Clear eyes, small round nose and plump pink lips. A boy, probably around his age, was staring at Changbin, his eyes wide and head tilting to the side. The light from inside the house seemed to follow him as it poured out embracing the shape of the boy, highlighting every strand of hair, every tiny finger and the whole of his figure. Changbin didn’t dare blink. He thought he was looking at an angel.

“Hey. I asked you a question.” said the boy as he let out a giggle. Changbin stiffened even more at the sound. He was still not sure this was real. _He_ was real.

“I…” He managed to choke out one syllable as the boy sat himself next to him, their knees accidentally touching. So he was real.

“You?” He let another endearing giggle escape even though Changbin could tell by the way he immediately tightened his lips that he didn’t mean to. He could see the curiosity and naivety glistening in the boy’s eyes and when he looked down at his lap, he saw those tiny hands balling up holding onto the hem of his oversized sweater. The sight was so endearing, Changbin couldn’t suppress his smile. The other instinctively smiled back at him and he felt a sudden lightness spreading all over his inside.

“I’m Changbin.” He said, his eyes finally fixed on the other’s face.

“Oh! I’m Hyunjin.” The other boy replied, his pretty lips curving up, and his eyes turning crescent.

Changbin didn’t know if it were the fact that he had just narrowly escaped a kidnapping, or that he could vaguely felt himself being a tiny bit taller with his back up straight like this, but he felt brave. And also dazed. So it was only natural that he said the next thing that he said.

“Hyunjin. You’re really pretty.”

Then Changbin, increasingly permeated by newfound bravado, watched Hyunjin’s cheeks quickly tinted with a dash of rosy pink and his lips forming an ‘o’ not knowing quite what to say before a chime of giggles soon followed.

Amid the stiff winter wind, still darkness and restless branches of leaves, Changbin imagined golden brown toasts drenched in warm vanilla syrup and faint white smoke smelling of freshly made hot cocoa.


	2. I will leave my heart at the door.

Today’s Thursday, which means Hyunjin finally has some free time to hang with his friends after school. He has been working extra hard these past few weeks for the next monthly evaluation at his dance academy. Despite having been through 2 years of arduous training, Hyunjin still finds himself overtaken by a sense of diffidence whenever an evaluation or performance comes up. He is not a bad dancer, he loves dancing with his whole heart and he does believe in himself. But it doesn’t stop the nerves from eating him up from the inside and Hyunjin from subjecting himself to an endless bouts of nightly practice in a frenzied state conjured up by gnawing doubts and desperation to achieve perfection. Sometimes, he would stare at his own reflection in the big mirror in lieu of a wall in the practice room and he feels as if he was sinking into a damp hollow, swallowed by layers and layers of thick muddied grass.

But then again, whenever Hyunjin starts dancing, he cannot stop. It is the burden of a yearning for recognition that burns him but never the dancing itself. And as long as he can remember to get lost in the choreographed moves and the pulsating rhythms, Hyunjin guesses he would be fine, eventually.

“Gosh, you look like shit.”

Thinly veiled affection in a coarse remark and monotonous voice. Hyunjin doesn’t need to turn around to know who is talking.

“And good afternoon to you too, Seungminie.”

His friend nods back at him and they instinctively huddle together, long padded jackets lightly pressed against one another. As the month of December’s approaching, it has been getting significantly colder.

“I can’t wait til it’s hot again.”

Seungmin said bitterly, retreating even further into the bundle of scarves around his neck until only a pair of puppy eyes can be discernible. Hyunjin turns to have a look at his friend and laughs.

“You said you liked winter.”

“I liked the idea of it”, Seungmin muffled into the thick wool “Like Christmas, hot chocolate or something. But clearly not this uncalled for freezing wind on my face”, says he, with visible and audible spite.

“You’re ridiculous.” Hyunjin laughs, but proceeds to throw an arm around his slightly shorter friend and absent-mindedly engulfs him in a semi-hug. He gives Seungmin a brief second to accommodate to the warmth before asking him the important question.

“So what are we doing?”

“We’re waiting for Jeongin.”

His friend says, matter-of-factly.

“Why? Is he coming with us?”

“No...uhm…”

Under his arm, Hyunjin could feel Seungmin stiffen up a bit at his question. This is very uncharacteristic of him.

“Seungminie?” He tightens his hold on the other’s shoulder a bit , albeit encouragingly, not threateningly.

“Well...it’s more like ...we’re coming with him?” Seungmin finally utters a reply, the lower half of his head still buried under layers of scarves but Hyunjin could feel his eyes peering at him under his thick bangs. The taller boy shifts his position slightly and turns his body completely to the direction of his friend to let him know that he now has his full attention. Hyunjin doesn’t say anything, but keeps his eyes on the other for a long minute.

“Okay okay, we’re coming to Jeongin’s house. He has bought a new game and his mom is cooking a feast. Happy?”, Seungmin wiggles out of his arm still not looking at him.

“Happy?” Hyunjin sighs, with his whole body. “You know I’m not.”

“But why?” Seungmin whines. He tries to snap his head back in frustration but the thick layers of scarves, like a plaster cast, prevents even the slightest head tilt.

“Seungmin, you know why.” Hyunjin says, his voice soft and all of a sudden, there is this quiet sadness pervading the air around them. A sharp winter breeze drifted past them and the shorter of the two shrunk back into silence.

“It’s alright if you go without me. We can still go out and catch that movie tomorrow.” says Hyunjin, finally breaking the silence. And it takes Seungmin another minute to emerge from the bundle of scarves and take a glance at Hyunjin over his shoulders. He watches his friend for a while, thinking something to himself, then regains his monotonous voice and unperturbed expression.

“ _He_ ’s not gonna be there.”

“Oh.”

“So, just… come?”

“It’s… Seungminie, it’s not about him.”

“But it always is though, isn’t it?”

Hyunjin is clearly caught off guard. In an instant, his body freezes up, his smile falters and the tail of his eyes droops ever so slightly, but still, visibly. Seungmin tries to focus on the mole under his friend’s left eye as he regrets his sharp tone. Even his mole looks… sad somehow.

“Hyunjinie, I didn’t mean to…”

Seungmin’s clumsy attempt at salvaging the situation is cut short by a car pulling over right next to the pavement where they are standing.

“Yo, get in!”

Jeongin peeks out from a rolling down window, smiling and all. Under the immediate effect of his smile, Seungmin momentarily forgets his situation and is about to jump at him to put him in a headlock when he sees who’s driving.

“Oh hello, Mrs. Seo.”

He bows to Jeongin’s mom in the driver seat. Next to him, he can feel Hyunjin doing the same thing despite being awfully static just a moment ago. Being well-mannered is like Hwang Hyunjin’s second nature.

“Long time no see.”

Mrs. Seo greets them with a kind smile. Seungmin almost starts to correct her saying that he was just at her house the other day helping Jeongin with his English homework before he realises she isn’t exactly looking at him.

“Long time no see, Mrs. Seo.” Hyunjin speaks up giving her a timid bow. It looks as if he was trying to avoid eye contact. But Jeongin’s mom knows him better than that.

“Don’t be shy.” She reassures him, her eyes kind and fixed on him. “I heard you two were coming for dinner.” says she, her tone indicative of a confirmation rather than a question.

“No I…” Hyunjin shakes his head, accidentally looking at her direction and feels himself stopped midsentence. Even back when he was little, he knew it was hardly possible to go against her wish when she sounded like this. Mrs. Seo was always a very persuasive woman, part of the reason for which was they all just really liked her.

So Hyunjin just awkwardly stands still for a moment watching Seungmin open the door the rear seat and join Jeongin at the back until Mrs. Seo waves at him and signals for him to go sit at the passenger seat. Like a clueless child getting picked up by his neighbour after school, the tall boy obediently follows her instruction, sitting down and buckling up as his mind still tries to come up with overdue excuses to get out of this.

“Relax, son.” Jeongin’s mom puts a hand on his shoulder, giving it a brisk but gentle rub before turning her attention back to the steering wheel. Hyunjin thinks those are the last things she says to him for the rest of the car ride, but he’s not so sure because as soon as the car starts, his mind drifts into panic. He tries to focus his mind on watching the two behind him engaging in their routine banter but he finds himself completely befuddled by the thought of being in Mrs. Seo’s house, _his_ house, again after all these years. Somehow the nostalgic voices and fleeting images in his mind all fuse into a big ball of chaos and manage to drown out the chaos actually happening behind him. Hyunjin looks down at his hand, his thumb fingernail digging at a cuticle. He feels the slightest twinge, and then nothing but complete numbness.

Changbin, Jeongin’s brother, used to be his world. It used to be Hyunjin, not Seungmin, staying inside that house after school, eating a bowl of microwaved packaged instant rice with dried seaweed while doing his homework and listening to music. Because Changbin used to ask his father to drive them both to the Seo’s home before he had to go to yet another cram school. Because the same boy used to run through the whole content of his fridge to find something edible to feed a hungry Hyunjin, and playfully yell at him to do his homework. And Hyunjin listened to him anyways because whenever Changbin thought he was absorbed in his studying, he would sing ever so softly to himself in the kitchen as he waited for the ‘ding’ of the microwave. Sometimes it was a wordless melody, sometimes it was fragments of lyrics clumsily strung together in a faded but strangely catchy tune. Either way, Hyunjin used to love listening to Changbin’s nameless music, as he did with everything else about the older boy.

But then everything changed and they drifted apart. Changbin started to have other friends, friends whom he hung out with after school, friends who were not Hyunjin. Then the younger boy started to run out of excuses to go to his house and wait for him. And when the older of the two chose to attend a performing arts high school in another city, Hyunjin just stopped coming to the Seo home altogether. Initially he tried to reach out and keep in touch, and between the dozens of emails he sent and the occasional replies he got, Hyunjin forgot to mention his dad getting caught up in a huge embezzlement scandal and everything they had ever owned taken away from them in just a span of two months. In hindsight, he knows the reason why he did not talk about it with Changbin was not a simple lapse of memory. It was simply because he was afraid. He was scared their already strained friendship would not be able to withstand such a change. Hyunjin knew Changbin never had and never would care about his family’s status and property, but it was a undoubtedly a major change nonetheless and the fifteen year-old Hyunjin had had enough of life taking its toll on this thing, which would have been barely counted as a friendship by then, between him and the older boy. He was just tired of all the changes in their life. He just wanted them to pretend like nothing had ever happened, that Changbin hadn’t got himself some shiny new friends, that he had gone out of his way to start a whole new life in another city, and that deep down, they both knew, this new life had been planned out without Hyunjin in the picture.

So even though it was hard adapting to a flat the size of his old bedroom and sleeping on the worn out and tackily red leather sofa for months before Mrs. Kim’s family offered to let him live with them, in his emails to Changbin, Hyunjin continued to write about doing pointless homework in a light-filled room listening to the sound of July heavy showers blasting through floor-length windows. Even though he had to get used to waking up to the random chinks and clunks of clattering objects in the shared backyard behind Mrs. Kim’s house every time the old woman next door came out to hang her laundry on the clothesline, in his emails, Hyunjin never stopped talking about taking shelter from the heat under the dappled shade of their big trees and watching his dog running around on pale green grass.

But at some point during his junior year, he became tired of pretending. The house and life stuff, it was alright. He could take it and he had already been so used to writing lies about it, he stopped having to crack his brain to conjure up images of his old life and putting them into words in the emails. Those were just trifling details he hardly cared for. Those were the easy part. But the lie Hyunjin could not get used to telling was what he always wrote at the end of every email.

‘I know you’re busy so take your time. You don’t have to write back if you can’t find the time. I can wait.’

Every time he typed those words down, he felt a brief but sharp pain in his chest. He ignored it anyways and proceeded to click ‘send’. But as the ‘whoosh’ sound signalling his email being sent faded into the air, he would feel the sudden presence of darkness looming over his entire being. And as the hours, then days, then weeks went on without a word from the other, the shadow grew heavier and heavier until it thickened enough and dripped onto his body seeping through his thin skins eating away the region of his heart. So when a reply finally came and it was usually no more than a few lines of the same content each and every time, Hyunjin felt his already weakened heart cracked a little.

‘I’ve been busy, but I like it here so it’s fine. You seem to be doing fine too. Take care of yourself.’

Eventually, he decided to follow Changbin’s words. He stopped hoping for a reply, he stopped writing so his heart would stop breaking. He stopped pretending like he still mattered to the other boy as much as he had when they were small boys sharing laughs and stealing glances over a simple afternoon snack in Changbin’s tiny but sun-filled kitchen.

Hyunjin, finally, took care of himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just gave up writing summaries altogether. And I know I promised better quality but I don't know, you could decide it for yourself. I honestly had so little time for this I had to write it between coffee breaks at work, which I clearly don't have enough. I planned to introduce Chan's character in this chapter but as with everything else in my life right now, nothing goes according to plan.  
> Anyways, thank you for reading this and if you can, please leave some comments because I'm not gonna lie, I love reading them. My writing style is a bit on the wordy side and it may be a bit tiresome at times but I think I could get better :)
> 
> P/S: The title of this chapter comes from the first line of Adele's 'All I ask'. Hyunjin sang it during a recent fansign and it was one of the most beautiful things ever.


	3. If not with me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'who else could you love?'

When Changbin first stepped into the house, he didn’t realise he was there. The only thing he saw was a tall and lean figure shrouded by a cloud of thick smoke coming from the direction of his kitchen. He thought something was on fire and ran as quick as he could towards the source of the smoke, which was, in hindsight, hardly a smart move. But, Changbin has never been the rational, or calculating type. He acts before he thinks. And that’s why as soon as he could make out the identity of said figure, he didn’t spare one second to stop himself from reacting the way he did.

“What are you doing here?”

Changbin freezes at the doorless entrance of his kitchen, his voice sharp and eyes cold. He sounds almost bitterly indifferent for someone who is standing in a sea of smoke looking at the person he loves.

“Oh. Hi, hyung.”

Hyunjin says, clearly taken aback by Changbin’s presence.

“Hi.”

Changbin mutters, dropping the conversation as soon as he realises he’s started it. Hyunjin is about to say something when he walks past him, his shoulder lightly nudging away the younger boy’s arm. The fabrics of Changbin’s scratchy oversized hoodie and the other’s soft wool sweater creates a friction so sharp, it burns their bare skins.

“What’s going on?”

Changbin tries to shout, through muffled mouth and covered nose, at Jeongin and his stupid friend, Kim Seungmin. Through the dissipating smoke, he sees them leaning on each other laughing their guts out next to what looks alarmingly like one of his mom’s newly bought aluminum pots. Absolutely scorched and possibly perished beyond salvation. “What the hell did you do?” He thinks he’s on the verge of tears now.

“Hyung, you’re back!”

His brother immediately lets go of Seungmin and jumps at him. He’s ridiculously tall for a kid his age (at least, to Changbin who stopped growing an eternity ago) and impossibly chirpy for someone who almost burnt down his kitchen and definitely murdered a perfectly good cooking pot.

“Don’t you ‘hyung’ me, Jeongin. Tell me what happened?”

Changbin groans, doing nothing to untangle the mess of limbs wrapped tightly on his whole body now.

“Mom got called into work. They probably got the wrong shipping order again.”

That explains the absence of his mom and the presence of these disastrous people in the kitchen. But not the smoke, or the pot. So Changbin finally shakes his brother’s unnecessarily long legs and arms off him and raises an eyebrow at him while folding his arms in front of his chest in the most threatening manner a person of his height could manage.

“Well, we tried to make ramen.”

Seungmin steps in as he holds Jeongin up helping him recovering his balance. Changbin feels himself scowling at his brother’s lanky friend. They all tense up for a brief moment and it is not an unusual occurrence whenever either one of them speaks to the other. It’s not that Changbin dislikes this one particular friend of his brother but he always feel some sort of obscure resentment from this kid for no reason.

“And?”

Changbin is not about to be intimidated by a kid one whole year his junior, no matter how tall said kid appears to be.

“And we burnt the pot? In the process?”

This one is not about to back down either.

Taking one look at Seungmin’s impressively blank face, the older Seo brother exhales loudly as he’s ready to drop the subject. It is really not worth it to fight with teenagers over home incidents. But he wants to make an exit that is worthy of his whole year of being older so Changbin takes on step closer and slightly raises his head to meet Seungmin’s eyes.

“Next time, if you decide you can cook, make sur--”

“Hyung, it’s my fault. Not theirs.”

He is so close to finish his sentence when a whole Hwang Hyunjin slides in between him and the other two. What the hell are all these kids so tall for?

“What are you sa--”

Under no circumstances is anyone to forget how fatal Hyunjin’s glistening eyes and parting full lips are, especially when his face is up close like this. Changbin is bitterly reminded of the fact.

“I was hungry so I asked Jeongin to make ramen for me.”

Hyunjin says, his voice full of guilt and his eyes everywhere but Changbin. And the older boy feels all of his will to pursue the matter dissolved into the thick air.

“Disperse.”

He waves a hand dismissively. Seungmin is about to protest when his brother slightly pulls him back and leads him upstairs, not without mouthing a ‘sorry’ at him.

“Hyunjin. Stay.”

Changbin is not sure what kind of power he suddenly possesses when he finds himself speak up as he watches the younger boy turn to leave.

“Me…?”

“Yes, you.”

Changbin speaks, finally looking directly at the taller boy. A simple eye contact with Hyunjin, confused but beautiful nonetheless Hyunjin, uses up all the amount of bravery Changbin is naive enough to think he owns for a brief second.

“I need someone to help me clean this mess up.”

He covers the rise of anxiety in his mind with a lame excuse. He can actually hear Seungmin snorting in the distance.

“Oh. Okay.”

Hyunjin complies and that’s how they find themselves, two awkward boys painfully self-conscious of the other’s presence, in this tiny kitchen pretending to care about said kitchen. After an eternity spent aggressively scrubbing the scorched pan and trying his best not to acknowledge the other’s existence, Changbin remembers something. “Hey, you haven’t eaten right?” He breaks the silence, clearly a tad bit too enthusiastic for the situation.

“Uhm..yes. But it’s okay.”

“I have instant rice and seaweed.”

Changbin offers thinking it is a smart way to get out of this tension and space filled with too much Hyunjin for a moment. But when he sees Hyunjin freeze in his spot, eyes downcast and shoulders tensed up, Changbin realises how stupid he is.

“I mean it’s alright if you don’t want to eat. It’s not something grand anyways.”

He tries to sound nonchalant, unconsciously shuffling further away from Hyunjin. But the younger boy just smiles at him.

“I want to eat it. Can you make it for me?”

It isn’t a genuine smile. But Changbin takes whatever he can.

“Okay.”

\---

A while later Changbin finds himself quietly shuffling back and forth in a corner of their living room, taking discrete glances at the beautiful person he has just fed with a bowl of lukewarm rice sprinkled with thin slices of dried seaweed. Hyunjin has been eating in absolute silence, but he doesn’t seem to mind it. He looks so relaxed. His eyes trace each spoonful of rice with effortless nonchalance. The long bits of hair normally tucked behind his ears rebels against his will with the involuntary help of gravity and keeps falling on his cheeks, drawing attention to the little mole under his eye in the process. Hyunjin tries to tuck the stubborn strand back at first, but to no avail so he just keeps it there, dangling over his cheeks. It must be irritating him though, because even from here, Changbin could see the little nose scrunch and the lips purse every time his hair ventures on his nose, and sometimes, rice. The lips purse though. His lips have always been all sorts of wonders, like Changbin could write a hundred songs and play a thousand films about it, yet when he makes those little pouts, all songs would lose their words and all cinematic scenes would just turn spots of bright colours. This is so goddamn unfair.

_Three goddamn years and Hyunjin is still so beautiful._

And then all of a sudden, Changbin is consumed by an intense kind of sadness. It spreads over his whole body like quiet waves on summer nights, rolling in and out, lapping away bits and bits of his being. He subconsciously puts a hand over his chest trying to feel his heart beating. Its rhythm is steady, yet when he listens closely the beatings sound like someone drumming underwater, amplified but distant. His whole body feels light, submerged in the depth of his own muted longings.

“Hyung?”

Hyunjin is looking at him now. Changbin is forced to come up to the surface, his head out of the water.

“Hmm?”

“You’re…” _staring_. Hyunjin is about to say but he bites back his word. “...okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.”

“Really? You look a bit pale there.”

“I’m alright, Hyunjin. Really.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Then they stay in silence for a long second before the door is swung open, revealing his parents and… Chan, his college friend. They are all laughing and chatting loudly about things that wouldn’t matter at all in the next minute, before their eyes land on a dumbfounded Changbin and curious Hyunjin.

“Hyunjinie, is it you?”

His dad speaks up first, striding across the living room to engulf the younger boy in a full dad hug, which doesn’t last long because of their positions. Mr. Seo is a big man with too much enthusiasm at times, so he characteristically almost breaks Hyunjin’s neck with his hug until the poor boy lets out a soft yell.

“Oh. I’m sorry. Did that hurt you?”

“No. It’s alright, Mr. Seo.”

“You’re such a brute. You could have hurt him!”

“No, really, I’m not hurt at all, Mrs. Seo. I was just surprised.”

“See?”

“You, stop talking.”

“Oh now, you’re laughing at me too, Hyunjinie.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be honey. He deserves that.”

“Hey!”

“Now, have you had anything yet? Auntie didn’t even have time to cook for you.”

“Then you must stay and eat! Have a drink with me too!”

“He’s not even of age yet! What are you saying, this old man?”

The conversation goes on like that for a full minute and Changbin fights back the urge to roll his eyes at his parents. But then he catches Chan at the corner of his eyes. He’s wearing that stupefied expression on his face and he has been staying awfully quiet amidst all this chaos. If this were the usual Chan, by now he would have not only introduced himself but also invited the younger boy to his next birthday already. But he hasn’t done any of that. Instead, he just stands there so statically he may as well be a piece of furniture.

So with a strange feeling of anxiety bubbling in his guts, Changbin carefully traces Chan’s eye line. And with a dull thump in his chest, he realises what Chan has been looking at all along. It’s Hyunjin. Hyunjin and his stupidly beautiful face.

\---

 

It’s not that Chan has never been in the presence of someone attractive. After all, he is often considered one himself. But at risk of sounding cliche, the moment his eyes land on this one, he knows there is something different this time. As soon as he sees him, he is rendered powerless. Sure, a pretty face has that kind of profound potency on the ordinary man. But Chan is no ordinary man. He talks to people and he is liked by people. There is an air of adorable honesty mixed with a whiff of charming arrogance about him, which makes him that much irresistible. Yet looking at Hyunjin, listening to his giggles as he watches Mr. And Mrs. Seo bickering makes Chan a helpless man. Surprisingly though, such a feeling doesn’t even bother Chan one bit. It’s enticing even. But Chan knows he cannot spoil himself with this newfound sensation any further so he gains back control of himself and tries to pretend like he is still the man he was before Hyunjin happened.

“Hey, I’m Chan, Changbin’s friend. I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Oh hello, I’m Hyunjin, Chang--, no, Jeongin’s friend.”

Later in the course of their relationship, Chan would play back this scene in his mind and laugh at himself bitterly for not taking even one second to wonder about that strange pause and stutter. But right now, all his brain can focus on and process is the way Hyunjin utters the ‘jin’ in his name like he is suppressing a pout. He think he has never heard anyone pronounce it like that. But he has already stopped being sure of himself or anything any more before the other even spoke a word so he tries not to think about the sound of it and the shape of his lips when he says it. Instead, Chan asks the younger boy a few casual questions, revels in the fact that Hyunjin lives only a block away from his own house, albeit as subtle as he can manage, and of course, offers to give him a ride home because the hour is late, the night is dark and the world is not to be trusted with Hyunjin walking home alone surrounded by all that. Chan confides the last reason only to himself but the other two are already more than enough for Changbin’s parents to urge Hyunjin to take his offer.

A year from now, Chan is going to think back on this specific moment when the prettiest boy he’d ever met gives him a bashful smile and a tiny 'thanks' before climbing onto the back seat of his car and he is going to feel so sorry for himself that sometimes, in fits of bitterness and frustration, he wish they had never even met. Yet he is painfully aware that even if it’s a decade, or a lifetime from now, just for the memory of watching Hyunjin slowly drifting off to sleep at the back of his car, messy hair covering half of his face, hands balling into fists on his lap and a faint smile slowly formed on his full lips, Chan would do it all over again.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, I'm back. This chapter is slightly shorter than the previous ones but it took a lot of time and effort lol Anyways, now that I've introduced all 3 main characters, I'll try to move the plot faster next time.   
> I really like the chemistry between Chan and Hyunjin (how they actually have a lot in common, from their history with sports competitions to their taste in music; and how Chan says he is working hard to earn Hyunjin’s recognition too lol), so I have always wanted to write HyunChan. That’s why you’re having this mess of a triangle now. I hate the word ‘love triangle’ but as of now, it’s probably how you’re going to look at this.  
> Anw, I wrote half of this listening to Black Skirts’ ‘If not with me’. It’s a very beautiful song so I hope everyone can give it a try if you can.   
> As always, thanks so much for reading!~


	4. Is that the wind lifting me up?

Ever since the incident at his house, Changbin couldn’t help but feel like the universe has been gradually, but somehow also blatantly, preconditioning him to the reintroduction of one whole Hwang Hyunjin back into his life. Everywhere he goes, there Hyunjin is. When he goes pick up his brother from school, the kid would most likely insist on letting Hyunjin tag along even though their houses are not even in the same direction. But he, along with that little brat Kim Seungmin, seem to be the only friends Jeongin have at school so them being at the back of his car bickering and chatting over absolutely nonsensical issues everyday is still somewhat within reason. However, the one thing that Changbin still can’t get is why on Earth do they need Hyunjin to be here, at Chan’s house, when they are supposed to be writing a new track for their upcoming gig? It is already ridiculous enough that Hyunjin has been seen at practically every single party they’ve been to ever since they all came back home for their winter break. Is Hyunjin even the party type? Well, to be honest, Changbin wouldn’t know because thanks to his strenuous efforts over the past few years, they haven’t really talked at all. But what are the chances that they keep bumping into each other at the same party? It’s so weird because Hyunjin didn’t have the same kind of ubiquitous presence before they met again at his house when his brother had almost burnt the whole kitchen down. Now he’s everywhere. He’s at his friends’ party drawing everyone’s attention just by standing there with his pretty face, his long legs and an upright cup of juice on his hand. He’s at his house charming the socks off some old ladies in his mother’s weekly neighbourhood meeting and making his brute of a dad laugh with his silly anecdotes of his own parents and sometimes, a brief summary of Jeongin’s another mishap at school. The thing is, as Changbin watches Hyunjin interacting with the people in his life and reminiscing about his own time with a smaller and younger Hyunjin, he has no problem figuring how Hyunjin can have this kind of effect on others. After all, Hyunjin is, well, Hyunjin. Being so damn loveable is his niche. But it’s not the how that keeps Changbin restless every time he sees Hyunjin now but the why. Why is he in his life all of a sudden? Why can’t he avoid the boy any more like he was able to do just fine a week before? What has happened without him even noticing? And who, who keeps inviting Hyunjin to all of these things? 

“Oh, it was me. I asked him to hang with us today.”

“Huh?”

Changbin looks up from his lyrics book, obviously taken aback by the reply. Did he say his thoughts out loud again? He always has this tendency to blurt out whatever it is on his mind when he’s too focused on songwriting. He seriously needs to fix this. But wait, he wasn’t exactly working on music, was he?

“You wanted to know who’d invited Hyunjin over. And I said I did.”

Chan says from across the table, his eyes still scanning the music sheet and his tone showing the sort of nonchalance that’s so typical of Chan. 

“But… why?” 

Changbin puts his notebook on the table, determined to pursue the subject.

“Hmm..What do you mean why?”

Chan still refuses to give him his full attention, but his obvious negligence of Changbin’s internal struggle cannot deter the shorter boy from having this conversation.

“I mean it’s usually just… us. Me, you, and Jisung.”

“Well that’s true. But it doesn’t have to be like that all the time, does it?”

Chan finally drops the sheet on the table, turning his head towards Changbin’s direction with a sigh. The other knows this is usually the part where he should just drop the subject and he knows there’s really not much of a point in trying to get to the bottom of this. It’s just such a trifling matter. But he has been walking around in a daze with his head filled with so many questions that he feels as though it’d explode if he didn’t at least get one answered. So Changbin decides to push further. And the thing with Changbin is when he does that, sometimes he goes too far.

“I mean we’re trying to finish this track by today, and Hyunjin’s neither a composer nor a lyricist so I really don’t get the point of him being here.”

While he’s trying to get this out in one breath, Changbin is vaguely aware that he sounds way harsher than he should. But he really doesn’t expect Chan’s reaction. His eyebrows, usually buried under a mess of brown curls, are furrowed so tightly they almost look comical. But Changbin hardly has enough time to laugh at the image when he realises the older guy isn’t exactly looking at him anymore. He follows his stare, turns his head around and there, he finds Hyunjin standing still at the door of Chan’s bedroom. 

To say Changbin has fucked up would just be grossly understating the situation. 

“I’m sorry. I just--” Hyunjin stutters, his eyes everywhere but the two other people in the room. Then before Changbin’s tiny brain could think of any remotely possible way to redeem the situation, he hears Chan stand up and walk past him.

“Hey hey, why are you saying sorry?” He says, his voice stern, yet so gentle. Chan, just like everyone else, is shorter than Hyunjin, but his shoulders are so broad they block Changbin’s vision as soon as he stands in front of the taller boy. 

“But you’re busy. I...I really shouldn’t be here.”

Hearing the boy mumbling, Changbin, still glued to his seat feeling like the world’s worst asshole, wants nothing more than for the ground to open up and just swallow him whole.

“Don’t say that. I said I needed someone to give us some feedback on the track, didn’t I?”

So that’s why? And Changbin thought it was impossible for him to feel worse about this whole thing. 

“Do you really need me here, hyung? 

Hyunjin says after mulling over what Chan has reaffirmed for a long second.

“Yes, I do. We all do. But first I need you to help me wake Jisung up. He’s sleeping in the kitchen.”

Chan says, probably giving Hyunjin that signature eye smile of his. As if on cue, the younger boy’s eyes turn crescent and a light giggle escapes his pretty lips. Somehow Changbin feels like he’s the one that is intruding.

“Why is he sleeping there?”

“Well, I guess he fell asleep while waiting for the pizza in the microwave.”

“You’re kidding?”

“I wish.”

Another soft chime of giggles and Changbin winces at the sight of Chan practically melting at the sight of Hyunjin slightly throwing his head back to laugh at his silly remark of Jisung. But he immediately looks away trying to convince himself that he’s probably hallucinating out of guilt. 

Another second passes and Changbin can hear footsteps out of the door and down the stairs. Then a heavy sigh.

“Hyung, you know I didn’t mean to upset him.”

He reasons with Chan, who is now sitting down and picking up his music sheets again.

“But you did anyways.”

Chan says, his voice void of emotions and eyes once again fixed on the musical sheets on their desk. Changbin let silence ensue for a full minute before a soft ‘I know’ left his lips. Chan didn’t even react, but then he started to hum some alternative versions of their unfinished song. So Changbin straightened up, stopped wallowing in self-pity and began to match the undocumented words in his head with Chan’s humming. They stayed working on their parts like that for a while until a loud noise followed by a fit of giggling was heard from downstairs. They finally looked up from the mess of notes and sheets. 

“I hope Jisung’s not doing something stupid to make Hyunjin laugh again.” 

Chan scoffed, his right eyebrow quirking up in amusement. Changbin couldn’t help but nod in solemn agreement.

\--

After what happened at Chan’s house, Changbin stops questioning the re-emerge of Hwang Hyunjin in his life. He figures the reasons why he’s been seeing so much of Hyunjin is simply because he lives in a close-knit community where everyone can be anyone’s friend and it isn’t like all the people in his life don’t enjoy being in the presence of the pretty boy. His final verdict is that he doesn’t (dare to) think this has anything to do with him. He wouldn’t allow himself to make the foolish assumption that Hyunjin is somehow deliberately trying to pave his way back into his life anyways. Hyunjin is like the sun and the people around him had no choice but to let his lights (and those addictive high-pitched giggles) suffuse their life. But Changbin is just, well, Changbin. He isn’t insignificant but he also doesn’t brighten up the whole world whenever he smiles. So as with any other thing involving Hyunjin, this couldn’t be about Changbin. From the start, it has never been about him anyways.  
But another big part of why he stops giving himself questions is that he notices the glint of vulnerability in Hyunjin’s eyes every time he asks the boy why he is there when they come across each other at his house, at random parties Jisung made him go to, or when he caught him off guard by calling his name on the street. He wills himself to come to the conclusion that Hyunjin probably never had the chance to get used to people not welcoming him with open arms, so even the slightest and subtlest whiff of hostility from Changbin would probably hurt him. And what kind of man would purposefully hurt the most precious thing in his life? 

So they’ve started to have conversations here and there. Changbin started to ask Hyunjin how he was doing instead of just taking a quick glance and muttering a low hello back when he got home and saw the other boy talking to his brother, helping his mother cook or just attentively listening to the kind of mundane old man’s talks his father was the best at. Hyunjin was clearly taken aback the first time Changbin didn’t walk straight to his room but turned around to ask him if he was coming to Jisung’s party that Friday.

“I think I am… if that’s okay with you?”

“Why do you need me to be okay with it?” Changbin almost asked, but he swallowed the bitterness down and rephrased his words.

“Cool. See you there.”

He said instead, only staying long enough to watch the way Hyunjin’s eyes lit up and those pretty lips curved into a sheepish smile.

Gradually, their conversation has got a bit longer. Changbin finds himself progressing beyond the yes and no sphere of questions and carefully treading into the territory of “how was your day?”. It isn’t that he is no longer surprised at his own gentle tone of voice when he willingly asks Hyunjin to tell him more about the details of his day or that he stops finding his tongue stiff and his own words foreign when they’re laced with genuine concern as he watches Hyunjin spacing out, and then slipping in and out of sleep at the back of his car whenever a performance at the dance academy came up.

“Don’t overwork yourself, okay?”

He finally speaks up one day when they are waiting for Jeongin in their car outside of the combini near his house. For a brief moment, he is taken aback by his own assertiveness. But then Hyunjin looks at him through the rear view mirror. His eyes slightly widened, and face frozen at first. But as Changbin keeps their eye contact, waiting for his words to dissolve into the air, he thinks he catches that glint of happiness again in the other’s faintly crescent-shaped eyes. Hyunjin’s whole face softens into a bright smile and a small, but firm “Thank you, hyung” is all it takes for Changbin to turn around and smile back at him, his hand reaching out to pat his head as if they were 11 and 10 again.

It isn’t like Changbin doesn’t catch himself off guard all the time being so quick to make Hyunjin the centre of his attention again. But as he feels Hyunjin naturally leaning into his touch, he finds himself finally giving up fighting back the contentedness spreading inside him. Because after all, it just makes sense, doesn’t it? Of course now that he is in his life again, Hyunjin is going to be the centre of Changbin’s world the way he was all those years ago. It’s the natural progress of things, isn’t it? After all, Hyunjin is Hyunjin. And Changbin is, well, Changbin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is honestly not the quality of writing I was striving for, but I've had it in drafts since March and with the way my life is spinning out of control, I don't think I could find the time to polish it. I also just want to get this chapter out of the way so that I could start fresh on the next chap.  
> As with any other things I've done in my life, half of the reason I do this is for external validation so comments & kudos are welcome (but the latter is not obligatory lol). Of course I'm joking but it's nice to know what people think about this.   
> Ooh, have you read some of the more recent Changjin fics? I can't believe that with the speed this ship is sinking, people can still write such amazing pieces for it.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in ages and as it would appear, English is still not my first language so you could possibly imagine the struggles I went through for this. I'll probably need to re-read and edit this some time in the future when I don't have ten thousands deadlines hanging over my head. But for the time being, please bear with me and this inexcusable quality of writing.  
> P/S: I love Changjin so much, I really had to write this.


End file.
